


Sleepless

by Lady_in_Red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, book canon, post-A Dance with Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne finds sharing her bed more difficult than she'd anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

Brienne could sleep anywhere. Under the stars, in a cold cell, or atop moldy straw. Yet tonight she could not sleep. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar featherbed that kept her awake. Or the man resting beside her.

She was used to sleeping alone. Other noble girls had companions, bedmaids to share secrets in the night, friends to keep them company until they fulfilled their duty and wed. Lady Margaery had her cousins, and Brienne had often wondered what it was like to grow up surrounded by other girls.

Brienne had been raised in a house of mourning, where bannermen sent their condolences, not their daughters. She’d worn black more often than not as a child, knew no different until she was nine, when the household emerged from mourning her brother. Brienne had been given two sturdy, simple gowns, one in buttery yellow, the other in robin’s egg blue. She’d worn them less than a moon’s turn before word came of the chill that swept through Nightsong, killing much of the Caron family, including her betrothed. Her new dresses had been dyed raven black and her father began to search again for a husband to share her bed. 

Jaime was not her husband, though he slept beside her. After a lifetime sleeping alone, Brienne could not rest listening to Jaime breathe, the furs tickling across her skin every time he shifted or turned. Her mind would not quiet, her body would not relax. 

Jaime had done nothing to provoke this reaction. He hadn't touched her, wouldn't touch her. She had been foolish enough to offer to share the one large bed in the one room available in this inn. He was freezing and exhausted and she owed him more than a pallet by the fire. 

She opened her eyes, let herself look at him, sprawled on his back in the moonlight. Jaime was no more than a silhouette: tousled hair, the line of his nose and the soft slackness of his mouth, the rise and fall of his chest. Not her lover. Not her friend. Just a man, better than some, worse than others. A man whose presence would not let her rest. 

Brienne would sleep by the fire, where she could not hear him. Where he could not hear her should her dreams turn to him, as they often did. She slowly slipped out of the furs, trying not to disturb him. 

The tug on her shift took her by surprise. Jaime’s fingers held tight to the linen, his eyes open but unreadable in the dimness. He tugged again, urging her closer. Even when she lay back down, at the edge of the wide bed, Jaime’s hand remained wrapped in her shift. Beneath the furs, his hand moved to her arm, once more insistently tugging her toward him.

“Brienne.” His voice, soft and beseeching, drew her to him more surely than any touch could.  

She did not need a husband in her hall or a man in her bed, but she was tired of being alone. She awkwardly shuffled closer, her knees bumping against his legs. Jaime’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her, and Brienne hesitantly rested her undamaged cheek against his chest. 

Her heart hammered, but Jaime was already relaxing again, his breathing slow and even. While before he was a distraction, soft sounds and unpredictable movement, now Jaime filled her senses. The warmth and solidity of his lean body, the steady thump of his heartbeat, the smell of leather and sweat. 

Her breathing matched his, her eyes drifted closed, her racing heart slowed. Brienne had heard much about the mysteries of the marriage bed, but no one had told her about this. The comfort of being held, warm and safe.

Safe with Jaime Lannister of all people. Enemy and ally, protector and companion. And in his arms, finally, she slept. 

  
  
  



End file.
